Living with chronic illness is hard and joyful, frustrating and beautiful. We adapt within an unknown journey. For me, it is not only the physical illness but the journey through the mental as well. Diagnosed with PTSD, DID, anxiety disorder, depression, eating disorder, self-harm; all as response to years of abuse. Then, as an adult, reaching out for that help was a journey in and of itself. And then today, as my physical illness comes with its own depression, the fear it brings back. Sideways and weird-ways, it took many years to find my path. With that, I experienced what so many do, women and those diagnosed with mental illness; disrespected and dismissed; treated poorly and vulnerable to other kinds of abuses and neglect. Wheelchair Wednesdays is about this journey. It is the joy, the difficult, the downright ugly. It is also where I go for comfort and safety, out in the landscape.
The following is a flashback to 2016, a day of fatigue and neuropathic pain. This is how I expressed it; how I got it out of my head, coped, and what I did about it. Acceptance of allowing the pain and fatigue to be, and yet not giving up or giving in.
There is a cycle to the bones;
Muscle and nerves.
There is a cycle to the static.
Muscle and bones.
There is a cycle to the madness
Bones and muscle.
There is a cycle to these bones.
and the end?
string and cans.
The Cycle of Bones, black and white digital photography
Acceptance in attempting something else
The past days have been tired ones. My stomach feeling as though it is doing crunches in a workout even though I am at rest in bed. The back of my calf muscle aches deeply; toes twitch, hips, arm, thigh; quiver; head. simply hurts.
Fatigue once again places itself upon my body, and I drag myself around because I determine it so.
Frustration. How much can one person, rest? I have things to do. I have things I want to do. I get up. I lie down. I sit at the computer. I turn the computer off. I rest. There are those days in which such nonsense overwhelms me.
And, I want answers. I want to know what is intermittently happening again and again.
And, in such cycles I know I must remain diligent in stating what is better, because much is better. No, I am not making the gallant strides I once achieved. Small moves. One step forward and two steps back.
How about two steps forward and one step back. Yes, this is better. All of life is a cycle, so why not this? It is merely a cycle. My eyes will come around again, and I will see more clearly; physically and mentally; rest dear Connie, rest.
Today I wanted to write about something fun. I shall work on that for next week. For now, gratitude list to make. Take care my world. You are beautiful.
Paint much Love, always,
CKS a.k.a. The Crooked Little Flower
words and images ©CKS, 2016